Musings Of Codependency
by DespiteGatsby
Summary: a collection of clairexwesker oneshots/ficlets that i have written over the years and never published. some are new, some are old. enjoy!
1. The Beach

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil.**

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 **Hello and welcome all! I've been working very, very hard on my two major fics and have found that sometimes, it's just not what I'd like to work on at the moment and so, after a few weeks of thinking, I've decided to start a collection of my small short stories that I've been writing throughout the years. They will, of course, be dedicated to our favorites, Claire and Wesker. So let us begin and I do hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 1: The Beach

" _If I told you that I loved you, tell me, what would you say? If I told you that I hated you, would you go away? Now I need your help with everything that I do. I don't want to lie, I've been relying on you"_

He was falling again.

It was just one of those days.

Sometime after they had begun this ritual, he realized that it was more than lust. There was affection, protectiveness, and a pure _hunger_ for her touch. He pined for the very quake in her voice when he ran his lips down her body, exploring every tarnished and wounded inch of her. He wanted to feel her breath against the inside of his neck, he wanted to feel her nails rake down his back, leaving bright red marks in their wake.

But soon after this realization, he had also realized that it was a dangerous game. A dangerous game that they both loved to play. He had been warned and he had warned her as well but there was just so much more… he didn't want to be out in the open, exposed to their seemingly undesirable crime. More often than not, he found himself calling upon her when he was frustrated, when he was boiling over with anger, when all he could do was resist the urge to crush skulls under his boot. She was his measure of sanity, there to appease his horrible, _horrible_ rage when others would simply run from it.

But now, in the late hours of this night, he was falling. Falling along the endless streams of bright red anger, like a rushing and torrenting river. He could see his palms crush into a mans chest, blood pooling around his wrist. He could smell their fear in his nostrils. His hands were trembling, a shockwave of adrenaline pumping through his rigid body. His breath was labored and ragged, the pure essence of the kill in his eyes. He had fallen more times than he wished to admit, and it was becoming more and more of a habit. An addicting, uncontrollable habit. He would try to calm himself by imagining himself on a beach, as uncharacteristic as it sounded, he liked empty beaches during storms. The tide was sweltering and violent, the warm winds would howl in his ears, and his favorite part… his favorite part was Claire Redfield, standing next to him as the violence of the storm grew. She would watch the water with her own oceanic blues and sometimes, he could have sworn the emotion within them matched that of the tide.

Albert Wesker loved the beach.

 **A/N: As I said above, these will be short but I will update them frequently. Each chapter will be named after a song. -The Beach by The Neighborhood-**


	2. This Is The Last Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil.**

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Chapter 2: This Is The Last Time

" _Oh when I lift you up you feel like a hundred times yourself. I wish everybody knew what's so great about you. Oh, but your love is such a swamp, you don't think before you jump, and I said I wouldn't get sucked in."_

There were many things that distinguished Claire Redfield from other women. She was bruised, battered, and worn away by time. She was cautious, sharp, and paranoid. She was dangerous, cunning, and you didn't want her to have a gun in her hands. Aside from all of these things, she was fragile in the night, prone to nightmares that suffocated her sleep. She would toss and turn, bury her face in her pillows, clutch the sheets as if she was hanging on for dear life. The only comfort she sought would be the unyielding safety of Wesker's arms around her, holding her form against his own. He would silence her sleep-talk, the ones where she would mutter "no" over and over and over again as it were a hymn on her lips. She never told him what she dreamt so vividly about but he assumed it was her imagination replaying Raccoon City, Rockfort Island, Harvardville, and countless other events in her life that plagued her. He would never ask her to tell him about them.

Because of these acts of solace he granted her, Wesker found himself sucked into her lifestyle so easily it felt as though he was hypnotized. But he digressed, this is what he _wanted._ Oddly enough, he longed for this kind of life… a simple one with someone he cared for. They lived in a small house secluded from the city below. A mountain home with acres of lands and that white picket fence that everyone always dreams of. They had a doberman named Archibald, Archie for short. Sherry named him at her request. The days were spent working from home but sometimes Wesker was on the road for months at a time. The nights were sometimes spent as restless as this one, with Claire submerged in her nightmares.

She tossed around to Wesker who gently pushed her when she began to mutter incoherent words. Her face was twisted into an expression of fear and pain, one that he had witnessed himself one too many times. Her hands were balled into fists against his bare chest and she unconsciously scooted closer towards him.

"Chris please…" The words were almost inaudible, a desperate plea in the dark.

Wesker stroked her hair in attempt to soothe her.

"Albert no… no, no, no…"

 _There were the "no's" again_ , Wesker thought to himself. However, this time it was different. She had never once spoken his name before in her sleep. Only her brothers and occasionally that boy Steve Burnside.

"I'm right here, Claire." Wesker said aloud, pressing her closer to his chest. "I'll always be right here."

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! -This Is The Last Time by The National.-**


	3. The Night We Met

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

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Chapter 3: The Night We Met

" _When the night was full of terror and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet, oh take me back to the night we met."_

The sirens blared in her ears and her vision strained against the flashing red and blue lights. She was wrapped sparsely in a thin blanket as she sat on the back of an ambulance, her feet dangling above the asphalt. There were voices everywhere and she attempted to listen to all of the conversations buzzing in her hearing. Her head was pounding, hands shaking, and breath ragged.

No one really acknowledged her except for him.

Claire looked up as the man approached her sinking form. She was shivering in the cold and he offered her his jacket without saying a word. Her blue and watery eyes looked up at the man in question.

"Captain Wesker?" She voiced, a shake within her words. She had only heard stories of this man from her brother and Jill, seeing a few photos to back up their claims. He was tall and lean, his face stern and chiseled. His nose was pointed and very defined and simply the way he stood told everyone around that he was boss. However, what struck Claire the most were his cold gray-blue eyes peering down at her, flicking once between the jacket he held in his hand and back to her.

She took it graciously and slung it over her shoulders, the warmth instantly greeting her.

Wesker kelt down to her level and inspected the wound above Claire's right eye. The medics had patched it up earlier but it was already beginning to bleed through the gauze.

"Miss Redfield," He began sternly. "I need you to tell me what happened. In full detail please." His voice was not entirely comforting but it snapped Claire from her shocked trance, that she was silently thankful for.

"I was… I was walking home from class." She trembled from the cold and wrapped Wesker's jacket tighter around herself. "I usually take the bus but it was running late… I started walking to the liquor store a few blocks away so I could use the payphone and call Chris."

Wesker shuffled around as he searched for his notepad. "Go on." He said as he looked for a pen in his somewhere in his kevlar.

"I was fishing around in my bag for quarters and then the guys hand was around my mouth and he was pinning me against the wall over there." She nodded her head towards the spot. "I started struggling and I bit him, he let me go, and I started running away… stupid…" Claire laughed lightly and shook her head. "I know better than that… I should have run into the store but my instincts just said run."

"Then what happened?" Wesker asked as he began to jot down his notes. Another officer approached them then and he tapped Wesker lightly on his shoulder. Claire watched as they discussed something she could not hear through the sirens. Wesker nodded and sent the other officer on his way.

"I'm going to take you home, Miss Redfield." He said. "If you're comfortable with that, of course."

Claire was taken back slightly from his sudden courteous behavior. "Yes." Claire said quietly as she nodded.

"Come on then, you can explain the remainder of this situation on the way." It was then that Wesker stood to his height and extended his large hand towards her for her to take. His gaze then changed as he looked down at her with a subtle softness and concern for her.

Claire placed her hand in his and Wesker pulled her towards him and placed his other hand on the small of her back, guiding her to his squad car. She leaned into his solid and controlled form and in that moment, felt safer than she had ever before. Everything else was simply a blur compared to the absolute comfort that Wesker made her feel. Claire couldn't quite explain the feeling to herself as her head raced with every emotion associated with shock. Wesker opened the door to his car for her and she slinked in to the already warmed vehicle. Wesker was outside talking to the same officer from earlier, before he dismissed him and joined her in the car. Claire touched her fingers to her wound and winced, not really realizing how much it hurt until now. She was away from all the noise and confrontation, able to finally hear herself think.

"Don't." Wesker said swiftly, grabbing her wrist as she attempted to inspect it again. His hold was not forceful or threatening, rather it was cautious and protective. He held her there for another moment before releasing her. "You'll cause an infection the more you touch it before it's healed. It's a deep wound, Miss Redfield. I was surprised they didn't give you stitches."

Claire was silent again and nodded at him, his piercing blue eyes made her feel as though he was pinning her to her seat.

"Thank you…" Claire muttered. "You don't have to do this for me. You don't even know me."

"I know enough about you." Wesker stated simply. "And it is only kind to take you back home after what you've just been through."

Claire retracted and glanced at Wesker suspiciously. "You don't know a single thing about me, Wesker."

"On the contrary." He said while putting the car in gear. "Your brother never shuts up about you."

Claire smiled then and shook her head. "Of course."

"He hold you in very high esteem. I can now see he wasn't lying." Wesker smirked at her and Claire turned her face away to hide her reddening cheeks.

 _Damn he's smooth…_ Claire thought.

"Now," Wesker began. "If you're comfortable I'd like you to explain the rest of your story."

"After I started running he gave chase and I looked back for a split second and managed to see that he had a knife. My head was pounding from earlier when he slammed me up against the wall and my eyes kept blurring and then he tackled me, slammed my head against the concrete… luckily the owner of that Thai place heard the commotion and called the cops."

"And the man ran off." Wesker asked.

"Yeah…" Claire mumbled. "Why were you there though?" Claire asked, looking up at him.

"I was in the neighborhood." Wesker responded. "On patrol when I saw the lights, thought I would investigate. Who would have guessed that I would find the little Redfield in trouble."

Claire did not realize that they were sitting outside of her house until Wesker stopped the car.

"Oh…" Claire looked peered out the window only to see that the lights in the home were not on. No one was home.

"I've already had the RPD alert Chris of what has happened." Wesker said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "He'll be home after his shift."

Claire felt suddenly alone then. She was just attacked by a sicko and her brother couldn't even be there for her? It had to be his blatant and slightly frightening captain? Wesker got out of the car and came around to Claire's door, opening it swiftly, he offered her his hand again.

Wesker walked her to the front door as Claire fumbled around in her bag for the keys. "Thanks again, Wesker." She said softly. Claire then stood on her toes and planted a gentle kiss on Wesker's cheek.

His jaw visibly clenched and his stone-like expression became reposed as if her very touch slated something in him.

"Goodnight, Wesker."

"Goodnight, Miss Redfield."

 **A/N: Wesker saving the day. - The Night We Met by Lord Huron -**


	4. IDFC

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

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Chapter 4: IDFC

" _Tell me pretty lies_ _, look me in the face, tell me that you love me even if it's fake… cause I don't fucking care"_

Everything they did together was a lie. They lived in each others fantasies, each of them catering to the others needs. There was no home, there was no life. There was only the ever present feeling of lust. They did not develop feelings for one another because that would be beside the point of their little game.

Claire craved for his touch and it made her feel alive. He made the very skin on her back prickle with excitement. She ached against him every night and she didn't even care what every one else thought. In the moments spent with Wesker, she had felt more alive than she ever had before. There was just something about him that made Claire so intrigued. He was horribly complicated and never spoke about his personal feelings other than the satisfaction she gave him during their time. In exchange for her pleasures, Wesker granted her his. He treated her fairly although, lately he had been spoiling her. Claire usually did not entertain the idea but Wesker always had what she needed and if he didn't, he would go out of his way to get it. She first found it odd but after all this time, she finally understood that it was his way of saying thank you.

It had all started when Claire came to him asking for a favor. She had searched high and low for the seemingly elusive man until he sought her out himself. He had told her that her constant snooping was beginning to irritate him and that she was wasting her time. It was only when Claire had told him about her situation did his interest peak. She had been injured on a quarantine site and was certain she had been infected with the T-Virus through one of her wounds. Wesker immediately inspected her and confirmed her suspicions. It was then that Wesker's annoyance turned to interest. He was her only hope for survival otherwise she would have perished, or worse, mutate.

Wesker agreed to help her for nothing in exchange.

Claire was extremely grateful but it still did not change her views on the man. After undergoing private treatment for nearly three months, Claire was finally infection free. On the final day of her treatment, Wesker smugly asked if she was going to be alright without him, to which Claire responded equally as smug…

" _Well, dearheart it seems our 'fun' is at its end. I do hope you'll be able to survive without my help."_

 _Claire rolled her eyes, used to his dry and smug humor. "Oh believe me, Wesker, I'm getting as far away from you as possible and while I appreciate the help, I still think you're a horrible human being."_

 _Wesker smirked. "Is that so? I had no idea you thought so low of me, Miss Redfield."_

 _Claire scoffed. "Oh please! Like I'd ever feel any different about you. You know what you did."_

 _Wesker nodded. "I am fully aware."_

 _Wesker began to gather his things and promptly led Claire out of the facility to end their ritual. He would drive her to a laundromat two blocks away from her apartment she shared with Chris and she would walk from there. She always used school as an excuse._

 _Their car ride was silent as always but this time, Claire felt a strange feeling of loneliness in her gut. This was quite possibly the last time she would see Wesker and although she stuck true to her word about him, she felt oddly saddened by it. He had practically saved her life without asking for anything in return, something that Claire found extremely odd. Throughout their interactions, his attitude did not change and he was still smug, arrogant, and an egotistical maniac, but there was also another side to him that Claire had witnessed and strangely, he was kind. He had always made sure she was comfortable and that she was ready to do whatever he needed her to do in order for their procedures to move swiftly and painlessly. She felt as though she had been rewarded a very rare opportunity to see a side of a man so dangerous and cunning, that many would die trying to discover. And to think that of all the people on God's green earth that he could connect with, it was Claire Redfield._

 _To say that they now had something 'special' would be wrong. They lacked what relationships were built on because their was no relationship, it was simply an understanding. Claire did not wish for anything more._

It was late again. Claire was lazily sprawled on the large queen sized mattress, the white sheets twisted around her body. She was pressed against Wesker who was resting against the headboard, fit right into the crook of his underarm. She was running her fingers lightly down his side, occasionally making him shudder.

"Tell me…" Claire whispered in the dark of the room. "Tell me again."

Wesker tightened his grip around her, his steel arms trapping her right against him. "You're mine." His words rumbled lowly, husky and silk voice piercing the dark.

 **A/N: - IDFC by Blackbear -**


	5. You Are The Wilderness

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

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Chapter 5: You Are The Wilderness

" _ **Oh I was surrounded, there's nowhere left to go. I heard the wind shout beneath my feet, I felt the earth shake inside of me.**_ _ **I**_ _ **'ll run forever but I won't get far cause if I don't have you, I will starve."**_

Sometimes, if she listened long enough, she would hear the echoes of his screams from somewhere else in this place. She never had the opportunity to sleep enough and she figured he didn't either. Every day was spent under the watchful eye of whoever had them imprisoned here, only seeing the likes of nurses and doctors who insisted that it was all within her "best interest". Every time they opened the door to her cell, she would demand where he was, sometimes she would even threaten them.

They always laughed it off.

Claire wished that her threats would spark fear in these people, whoever they were. She lost count of the days, only knowing that it had been well past two months. She also had no idea as to _why_ they were here, no one spoke frontally to her about any of her questions or accusations. The doctors always assured her that their intentions were not to harm her, which surprisingly, they upheld their word. However, Claire was convinced that the screams she sometimes heard were Wesker's. They were far though, too far for her to attempt an successful escape, that she was sure of. She wondered if he ever fought back, but maybe he was too weak. There was just something about the amount of time spent here that felt bothersome. Wesker was an extremely powerful individual, it felt as though no one could overpower him but now… now Claire was sure that they were doing something to him to lessen that fire in him. She was sure they were hurting him.

The door to her cell was opened once again. A nurse and the accompanying doctor greeted her with a nod.

"Miss Redfield." The doctor said. "May I take some blood from you?"

His tone was gruelingly comfortable and it made Claire's skin crawl. "For what?" She growled.

"Just a few simple tests, nothing to badger yourself over." His cold and fake smile certainly enforced his almost cliche english accent.

"What are you doing to Wesker?" Claire asked.

The doctor chuckled. "Your dearest _friend_ isn't one for cooperating is he? He's quite the fighter… but he's serving his purpose to us and so will you."

"Like hell…" Claire, who was backed into a corner, readied herself. Her eyes averted to the door which was left wide open. With a burst of energy, Claire shoved herself against the doctor who she managed to topple over.

"Grab her!" He shouted, the nurse had Claire in her sights but she wasn't nearly as fast.

Claire began bolting down the halls in the direction of the screams that she had heard earlier. Seconds later, horribly loud sirens began to sound, mostly likely alerting the whole building of her escape. Coming to a halt, Claire quickly began considering her options, she was unarmed, weaker than usual for sometimes she refused to eat what they were giving her, and she was at a complete loss as to where to look for Wesker who, quite honestly, was her only hope out of here.

"Shit…" Claire muttered. Turning around, she could hear booted footfalls of security headed right for her location. She headed straight up the hall but the soldiers knew the building better than her and swiftly came marching around the corner in front of her.

"Hands where we can see em, miss." One of them demanded.

"I'm unarmed." Claire responded.

"Don't matter." He said.

He gave his men the signal to move in and as they began to apprehend her, a door in the hall flew off of its hinges, spiraling harshly into the wall across from it. The whole hall fell silent then, the soldiers readied their weapons and Claire stood in the center, ready to bolt whenever she got the chance. It was then that his figure stepped out the room with his back to her and Claire instantly felt the room change. Albert Wesker radiated the sudden feelings of pure fear and death as he stood before those who sought to oppose him. The soldiers poised their weapons, the one in front demanding the same thing from Wesker.

"Albert…" Claire's voice was hardly a murmur. Two syllables that would forever be a sin on her lips. A name that Claire would never imagine herself calling out in the dead of night. A name that she never thought she would whisper against his own ear.

And as if her voice was his switch, his form was a shadow of movement as he began to take down each man with his bare hands. Claire could hear bones snap and flesh rip, causing her gut to turn as she watched Wesker spare not a single one. As Claire watched his rampage, she was reminded of his nature. One that he had adopted through years of diligence, control, and power. A corrupted life that had sharpened him, turned him into iron and into steel.

Against the white walls of the facility, crimson blood clashed against them and Wesker's labored growls were settling. He turned to Claire but collapsed instantly.

She rushed to his side, trying to get him to stand again. "Come on, Albert we have get out of here."

"I can't…" Wesker muttered. "I can't…"

Claire shook her head, tears stinging her vision. "Yes you can, dammit. Don't fucking quit on me…" She half dragged him over to the pile of bodies and pilfered two guns off of them, shoving one into Wesker's hand. Rummaging around in the vest of who she suspected was the captain, she found a pair of car keys.

"You got this, Claire…" She whispered to herself.

Each corner they rounded, she gunned down more soldiers, Wesker not being much help. They came up on a large hanger where what looked to be company cars were parked. She didn't recognize the logo on either side of the SUV's but that was the least of her concern right now. Using the keys she had found, she opened the passenger side of a vehicle and gently ushered Wesker inside. Coming around to the other side of the SUV, she could hear shouting from what she could only suspect were reinforcements. To her surprise, the hanger was open and as the car began to speed away, she moved her hand to Wesker's neck to check his pulse. It was alarmingly slow and she began to panic.

"Albert!" Claire shook his shoulder. "Tell me what I should do or where I should go!" She shook him again but there was no response from him. "Albert please I can't do this without you, you idiot!"

Wesker began to cough violently, blood speckling the crook of his arm. "Don't… call me an idiot." His head rolled to the side to reveal his battered and bloody face and he smiled weakly at her, his teeth stained with red. His chuckle turned into more coughs and Claire shook her head and laughed through her oncoming sobs.

"Albert jesus fuck don't do that to me! I thought you were a goner."

Wesker smirked, even at his worse, he was just as smug. "I had you…" He said, his deep and still thunderous voice reverberating against the walls of the car.

Claire said nothing then, she simply embraced the silence of the car. It was dawn wherever they were, the sunrise invading the vehicle. She looked over to Wesker who was surly asleep now and she could see his wounds begin to close on his arms and face. Small abrasions and cuts that healed much quicker than his deeper ones.

"I'd do it again for you." Wesker said quietly, snapping Claire out of her focus. "I'd do it all over again for you, Claire…"

"I know." She responded softly. "Why…? Why would you want to?" Her voice cracked slightly, the lump in her throat beginning to constrict. In the time she had spent with Wesker at her side, she had always had a difficult time understanding his intentions. He was not one for talking or any personal confrontation and it always seemed as if he had ulterior motives. But it was not until she got under his skin did she really understand why he was the way he was. A damaged individual that many did not give the benefit of the doubt. A man who had _clawed_ his way up from nothing to everything, bleeding into everything he did. A man who was now so powerful that all who knew his name would soon tremble before it. A man that would lay it all on the line for her.

 _Why…?_

"Because you are my dearheart…"

 **A/N: There's a wolf in my heart for you… - You Are The Wilderness by Voxhaul Broadcast -**


	6. Love Is Blindness

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

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Chapter 6: Love Is Blindness

" _Love is blindness, I don't want to see._ _Won_ _'t you wrap the night around me? Oh my heart… Love is blindness"_

There came a time when she began to be numb of the pain she felt. It was consistent and unrelenting, they always had her down. They did not treat her kindly nor did they answer her questions. All Claire could gather was she was a prisoner. They tortured her for information she did not know but they were certain she had the answers they sought.

They were all about _him._

Claire hadn't seen Wesker in many months even before she was taken here. She had been marking her days, 104 days to be exact. She told them that her and Wesker weren't "involved" with each other anymore, that they were estranged. It was a half truth. Claire and Wesker had mutually parted ways much earlier than her current ordeal, both of them agreeing that he put her in too much danger. Claire was the reluctant one, but as her world slowly spiraled into a madness that she could not control, she agreed that it would only be for the best, Wesker already buying her flight home. Memories of that day rattled a chord in her heart and she bit her tongue in spite, holding back a few tears that she never let fall.

Ever since then, she had no idea where he was or what he was up to. She had no information to give but they were not convinced. With each time the pain would worsen, her torture lapsing tenfold. They wanted _something_ from her and she decided it was time to lie. Each of the guards had small embroidery symbols on their uniforms but Claire didn't recognize it. She had been working with the BSAA for a few years now and was well aware of all the big bad companies out there and her time spent with Wesker revealed them as well. He always had enemies lurking under the fog, waiting for him to drop his defense, which he never did. Claire assumed that whoever this was, they really wanted to know where Wesker was located and would go so far as abducting a virtually innocent woman whom he spent no more than a year with. But as the cold of her cell crept under her skin, she found herself wishing that he was here. Claire wondered if he kept tabs on her after their falling out and if so, did he know of her current situation? Was he on his way at this very moment to rescue her?

"He's not a knight in shining armor, Claire…" She muttered to herself in the dark. "And you're not a princess trapped in the highest room in the tallest tower." She pressed her back closer against the wall. "If anything he's the damned dragon in this scenario… always has been."

Claire shook her head as she realized she was talking to herself once again. It had become lonely here, not that she was expecting anything different. The only faces she saw were those of the guards and the man that routinely questioned her. The beeping of her watch told her that it was midnight, dragging her from her thoughts. Claire sat up on her knees and etched another tally into the wall with a small screw that had fallen from the window.

Day 105.

XXXXX

Wesker stood in the center of Claire's small apartment. The furniture was tossed around, the glass coffee table shattered. There were a few lines of police tape hunkered around the broken windows and the power had been shut off. Claire had been missing for three and a half months, the BSAA had not stopped searching but their resources were running low. It seemed as if every time they narrowed in on a lead, it slipped right under their noses.

 _Typical…_ Wesker mused.

He paced around the room quietly, once again observing the scene. He had done this multiple times already but each time he was rewarded with nothing. Just like the BSAA, he was slowly running out of possibilities and Claire was running out of time. His eyes scanned over small details in the room and as always, Wesker was greeted with a photograph of them nestled on the end table. The first time he arrived here, he found it facedown on the carpet, a few droplets of blood speckled on the glass. He had since wiped the photo off and set it back where it belonged. They were at the park and Claire had just picked up an old polaroid from the thrift store a few days back, her film packs finally coming in the mail. She snapped the photo of the two, Claire pressing her lips to Wesker's cheek, Wesker giving off a small grin. The writing in the margins on the photograph read "what a day!" A small etched heart following Claire's handwriting.

Wesker cracked the smallest of smiles, his heart lurching in his chest. He had to find her. This wasn't about the danger Wesker put her in nor was it about the life she couldn't lead while with him… it was about _them._ Wesker wouldn't wait around to find out if she was dead or alive, he put every ounce of effort into finding her now it was time for overdrive.

XXXXX

"Tell me where Miss Redfield is or I'll spread your blood all over this room." Wesker's voice was a low rumbling hiss, causing the man who he was holding down to tremble even more.

"I don't know!" The man shouted, his teeth smeared with his own blood.

"You're a liar." Wesker twisted the mans arm up some more, gaining a painful wail from him. He had the man pinned to the floor on his back, Wesker's knee jammed right against his neck, both arms twisted back in an unpleasant position.

"Very well then." Wesker yanked the man onto his feet and pressed his pistol against his head. "If you won't tell me then you can show me." He gave his a forceful shove out of the room. "Start walking."

The guard led him down several halls until they reached a barred off section. Entering in a key-code, they entered a prison-like hallway with cells installed on either side of the room. The guard led Wesker to the last cell and punched in another code. Swinging open the door, Wesker pushed the man into the room first. Wesker felt his blood boil when he saw that Claire was not present.

"Where…" He demanded.

"I don't know! Honest this time I really don't know! This is her cell I swear to fucking god!" The man peddled backwards and bumped into the back wall. Wesker seized him by his throat, lifting him from the ground with ease.

"If you don't tell me in the next ten seconds where she is I will squeeze your pathetic life from your body." Wesker's eyes flashed violently under his dark shades.

The man gripped Wesker's wrists, trying to pry him away. "I don't—"

"One…" Wesker growled.

"They take her somewhere a few times a day!" He blurted. "I don't know where but they take her somewhere. Please let go of me!"

Wesker smirked, dropping the man onto the ground. "There that wasn't so hard was it?" Without warning, Wesker hammered a shot into the mans skull, killing him. "Thank you."

XXXXX

Claire heard a gunshot ring out from somewhere in the building. It was close. She jerked against her restraints and they began to rub her skin raw, tears stun her vision. Her torture for the day was to be sliced up by a _very_ sharp swiss knife. Her wounds were not deep but they were concise, ringing out the most pain she could handle. The man was on the phone, violently whispering commands to whoever was on the other end of the call. He then hung up, quickly pocketing the call.

"Well." He quipped, stepping his fingers together. "It appears that your _friend,_ our dearest Doctor Wesker is en route to this room as we speak. How fascinating." The man smiled but Claire could see him crack. The man walked towards her and undid her straps, already knowing that his time was up.

"I hope he tears you in two, you son of a bitch." Claire spat, massaging her raw wrists.

It was then the door rattled from its hinges and Wesker strode in like a storm, he had blood speckled on his face from the gunshot, his sunglasses discarded, rubicund eyes sharper than bloody daggers.

"As you wish, dearheart."

Grabbing the man by his scalp, Wesker yanked his head backwards, canning his neck painfully, he brought his mouth to the mans ear. "I will make you _shriek_ in agony"

Wesker began to pull the mans arm, his painful yells echoing in the room. Claire could hear his muscles and flesh begin to tear apart and she couldn't help but turn her head away as Wesker dismantled him. Still his pure and unsettling violence startled her, she just couldn't fully grasp the fact that he was _raised_ this way. Scratch that, he was manufactured this way. Piece by piece, he was assembled to be a killing machine. Each part of his personality, whether that was the meticulous and conniving part or the lesser known kind aspects, they were etched into him deeply. His self stood out against the others and it was his mystery that pulled Claire in when they had fist met.

"Claire?" Wesker's voice was a soft, subtle echo.

She turned her head towards him and for the first time in a long time, saw him as he truly should be. His hand that extended towards her was completely covered in blood, his slitted and glowing eyes softened at her own gaze. Claire put her hand in his and as ivory touched crimson, Wesker brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them softly.

"Come, dearheart." Wesker said quietly. "We should talk."

Claire smiled, tears effortlessly falling from her oceanic hues, easily pulled into Wesker's embrace.

 **A/N: I apologize if this chap seems similar to the last one, I just couldn't get this one off my mind. - Love Is Blindness by Jack White -**


	7. The Wedding Song

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

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 **Holy hot damn it's been awhile hasn't it? To be blunt and short with you all, I'm dealing with a broken laptop that I've been grieving for the past 6 months and everything that I've been working on is on it and it's been hard to make the money to fix it. I just wanna apologize for being virtually absent here and I promise that I'll try to make time to update my 3 major fics (SOM, E &A, and Musings).**

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Chapter 7: The Wedding Song

 _"Some kind of violent bliss led me to love like this. One thousand deaths my dear, I'd die without you here…"_

Their meeting place was bustling with life on a Saturday night in New York City. Claire was waiting for him at the hotel bar, working on a beer as she scrolled through some news on her phone. She was clad in a black silk dress, her feet becoming sore after wearing her heels for nearly two hours waiting. He usually didn't take this long to arrive and Claire had a sneaking suspicion he would cancel, he'd done it before. Claiming he was held up taking care of "business". Claire didn't mind though, she greatly appreciated the call for he would always promise to make it up to her.

And he always did.

Claire's phone buzzed and she peered down at it over her beer. It was a text from Wesker.

 _I'll be late. Don't wait up for me._

Claire smiled and shook her head, opening the message to respond .

" _ur already late albert_

 _but i guess i can hang around for a little longer :)"_

" _I'm sorry dearheart, you know I'll make it up to you."_

" _i know"_

Claire locked her phone, knowing that was the end of their conversation for now. A man sat down beside her at the bar and while he waited for the drink he ordered, he spun around to size up Claire. She could feel his invasive eyes wandering over her form and her lip curled in disgust.

"Can I help you?" She said sharply.

"You look lonely, little miss…?" His words trailed off, expecting her to give him her name.

"Miss fuck you." Claire said blatantly. She had many encounters with men in a bar setting and she was truly sick and tired of their half-assed attempt to "talk" to her. She also had her fist in the faces of many of those men by the end of their conversations.

The man seemed taken back but also ready for a challenge. "Wow." He started. "I'm offended."

Claire shrugged. "Good." Finishing off her beer, she set it down on the bar and looked at the man with daggers in her blue hues.

"I'm waiting for my husband so I suggest you _scurry_ off before he gets here." These were half truths as Claire and Wesker were never officially married, he had given her a simple golden band and asked her to keep it. Claire wanted marriage but Wesker would never agree to it. He didn't care for things like that. Wesker just wanted Claire to know that she was his. After months of trying to convince him, he still opposed however, he did agree to wear a silver band around his finger. That's all Claire wanted. That was three years ago and still to this day, they had worn them. However, Claire would occasionally loop hers through a chain around her neck during visits with Chris and company.

The man smirked drunkenly after the four shots he had just taken almost consecutively. "Well I'll be… you're already taken. That's a shame." He leaned closer to Claire and she could smell the whiskey on his breath. "I was hoping we could've had a little fun, ditch your husband and come to my room."

Claire barked laughter. "Nice try, loverboy but you're nowhere near my standards. Using your room just to pick up some chicks on your business trip even though you and I both know you have a wife at home you rigorously cheat on any chance you get! As if I would _ever_ stoop to your level." Claire gave him a light pat on his shoulder and smiled. "Now like I said before, you better get the hell out of here before my husband walks through that door and and tears you in two." Claire got up from her seat, tipped the bartender, and gave the man one last smile before turning around to head to her room.

XXXXX

It was nearly two in the morning and Claire had long since retired to her room. She had slipped out of her dress and into a hot bath, watching the news over a mountain of bubbles. She ordered room service and ate on the bed while catching up on some TV on her laptop. She hadn't received any messages from Wesker and Claire was beginning to worry only slightly. It was unlike him to go without letting her know where he was but she brushed off her feelings. She was starting to get sleepy and decided that she would end the night with a glass of champagne. The bottle was already waiting for her when she arrived, complements of the hotel. Claire was only dressed in her striped underwear and an old _Ninja Turtles_ t-shirt, her hair was down, slowly growing back out from her new cut a few months back. There were two glass champagne flutes sitting side by side on a small table with the bottle and Claire brought them over to the sink in the kitchenette. Uncorking the champagne, she let the froth dribble into the sink before pouring herself a glass to enjoy. She sighed after taking a sip and wished Wesker were here, he would enjoy this batch. It was dry but pungent, the carbonation bubbling on her tongue, the alcohol already beginning to warm her belly. Claire leaned against the counter and finished the glass, pouring herself another. There was then the sound of the mechanical card reader on the door, operating and then clicking. The door swung open forcefully and Wesker's slumped form staggered through, slamming the door behind him with a grunt.

"Albert?" Claire set her flute down. "Hey are you ok? You scared the shit out of me!"

Before she could reach him, he was already rushing himself in the bathroom. Claire could hear the sink running and Wesker lowly growling in what she would describe as pain.

She banged on the outside of the door trying to get him to come out. "Hey! What the hell is going on? Are you ok?" She balled her fist against the door when he didn't respond. Finally, Claire decided she would just force herself in. Opening the door, she was greeted with the sight of Wesker hunched over the sink, rinsing his face with the water. The porcelain basin was running red with his blood as he washed it from his face, mouth, and hairline.

"Albert…" Claire placed her hand on his shoulder and he visibly retracted at her touch. Wesker turned to face her with one hand covering a wound on his face, blood seeping out from under it. His mouth was bloodied as well, his gums dripping with ichor. There were multiple tears in his clothing and large gashes in his skin.

"Hi." He growled. "Sorry I'm late."

Claire placed a hand on his wrist and the other on his cheek as she attempted to move his hand away from his eye. "Let me see it." She asked quietly.

"I am going to tell you right now," Wesker winced. "You don't want to see it."

Claire's finger lightly ran over the silver band on his finger and shook her head. "What happened?"

Wesker turned away from her again, shielding his wound from her sight as he rinsed the blood away from it again. "Just had some complications with a few mercenaries. Nothing I couldn't handle though."

"They got close to you." Claire muttered. "Too close." She bit her lip as she watched him run the water over his eye, blood running into the sink. In all her years of knowing the man, she had rarely seen him like this. He was bleeding, wounded, and desperate to hide his shame from her. There weren't many things that Wesker couldn't either outrun or handle, and even fewer things that got this close to harming him. Although he would never admit it, he had his weaknesses even if there were very few of them. His power was undoubtedly unmatched, there was no one that even came close to his level and Wesker bathed in that fact. He was fueled by pure prowess and maximized every one of his skills. He could make men tremble, sob, and beg for their lives.

And Albert Wesker rarely showed them mercy.

Wesker turned to her again and removed his hand only to reveal a gouged socket where his eye should have been. There was still small amounts of blood pooling from the gaping hole and as she looked at him, Claire could see the pain in his other eye. His embers forged in hell sang with hurt and Claire saw the side of him that was a cracked stone, tenderness leaking through.

"Not close enough." He said lowly.

"Jesus, Albert." Claire breathed. "That _is_ close enough!"

Wesker chuckled lightly. "It will grow back." He smiled at her then, his teeth stained red with his own blood. That smile always made Claire melt, it was a little rough around the edges but it was for her and it was genuine. Claire tilted her head and smiled back at him, she held his face in her hands and used her thumb to wipe a tear of blood that came from the wound, leaving a thin streak of red on his cheek. Wesker clasped a hand around her own and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the ring that now seemed bonded to her skin.

"Come on, loverboy." Claire said softly, leading him out of the bathroom. "Let's go to bed."

" _In flames I sleep soundly with angels around me. I lay at your feet, you're the breath that I breath."_

 **A/N: - The Wedding Song by Yeah Yeah Yeahs -**


	8. Broken Crown

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

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 **Thanks for the reviews on the last insert!**

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Chapter 8: Broken Crown

" _But oh, my heart was flawed, I knew my weakness. So hold my hand, consign me not to darkness. Crawl on my belly til the sun goes down, I'll never wear your broken crown."_

She wished that he could feel what she was feeling. Or at least, admit that maybe he _was_ feeling them. Feeling _something_ for her. He could shower her in lust, blanket her in riches, and expensive alcohols, and stunning jewelry but nothing would ever compare to the mere seconds of fleeting gestures, and softly lulled words, and lightly feathered strokes of fingertips. Even if they only lasted for those mere seconds. She wished that she could pry him open and dig through his brain, extract the tightly coiled emotions, like dead plants, and water them. Drench them in everything she had to offer. But he would never allow it.

Claire faced this one too many times and every time, her hopes of fishing something out of him were useless. His heart was barred and sealed, snared in barbed wire, locked with the key forgotten. She wished that this was _normal_.

That he was normal. That they were normal.

Wesker was the face of nonnormality.

Claire had taken him though, accepted that fact, and although she felt certain ways at certain times, she still loved him. She still loved him every day, every time he walked through that door, every time he snored softly next to her, every time he spared those mere seconds of affection for her. Frankly, that made her love him even more. They were complicated creatures who wordlessly shared the same world even if they were from opposite sides of it. Wesker was a ruthless beast that trudged through soughs of blood to become the man he was today. He was conniving, manipulative, aggressive, and tyrannical. His power was an ever-consuming mass of destruction. Serpentine, would be the word Claire would use to describe his esteem. Serpents were claimed to be the first gods. Panther-like, would be the word Claire would use to describe his movements. He would slink, snarl, and adopt their pitch black fluidity. Wolfish, would be the word Claire would use to describe his ferocity. His bloodthirsty, untamable hunger for order and power made him the alpha. Sometimes all of these traits would suffocate her, cloud her judgment, force her to her knees but she would never truly give in and he would never truly make her. However, Wesker was still Wesker and his corruption ran deep enough to continue to damage him, to cause him to sever himself from affection of any form. Claire just had to try harder.

A lot harder.

They were standing there together, Wesker rinsing blood from underneath his fingernails, off of his knuckles and palms. She watched him diligently scrub at the red until it was nothing but a rusty rinse pooling down the drain. She had her own blood to clean but her ears were still ringing from earlier, she could not concentrate on anything but him. Her hands still shook and her breath was still short and ragged.

"Clean up." His voice strains against her ears. It is not a soft tone, it commands her.

Claire cleans herself off.

 _He doesn't care how you feel._ She thinks to herself as she washes away today's sins. _He'll never care about you like you care about him._ It wasn't true. Or at least, she thought it wasn't.

"Claire." Wesker says sternly, pulling her from her thoughts.

He doesn't get the chance to finish what he wants to say before she's pushing past him and out of the bathroom. She can't stand to be in there for another second watching rivulets of blood shimmer within the water, staining the white porcelain of the sink. It sickens her.

He's behind her in seconds, grabbing her by the wrist, sending little shooting pains up her arm. Sometimes she wonders if he knows his own strength. Of course he does.

"Leave me alone…" Claire says weakly. "I just want to be alone."

Wesker does not comply. "Are you feeling ill?" He asks. There is no concern in his voice, only pure professionalism as if she were his patient.

She shakes her head, red auburn hair falling in front of her face. "I could leave you know…" Claire wipes a tear away with the back of her hand like a child. "I could leave right now and you wouldn't give two shits."

"Leave then." He says. Those two words make Claire flinch as they snap in her ears, ruthless syllables that inflict a burn on her heart. He says it to get a rise out of her. And it works.

"You don't care about me." Claire croaks. A strangled sob escapes her lips and it's a sound she thinks is so pathetic and so desperate, an ache in her voice.

"Albert…?" His _name_ is a murmur on her tongue, something she rarely used.

Wesker sighs. It's a deep and languid drawl and Claire can sense his exhaustion. "I do care." He says. "You know I do."

She did know. It just wasn't always visible or palpable enough for her to validate it. Wesker pulled her towards him then, taking Claire by surprise when he locked his arms around her and pressed her body to his own. His unnatural heat greets her skin and sends a sensation through her body and right to her core. His eyes lock with hers and she gazes right into hell, storms of amber and red dance together to form the color of his hues.

"I love you." She says, her voice a quiet mutter. "I just want you to love me… I want you to burn like I do and _ache_ like I do… I want you to feel something for once in your life."

"Dearheart," Wesker says. The endearment is such a pleasant sound coming from him. "I feel a lot of things. The most of which are for _you_. Don't forget that." He pulled away from her only slightly, enough for him to look down at her and gaze at her as if he was peeling layers from her form. His hands were on either side of her face, thumbs delicately caressing away hot tears that fell from her eyes. Wesker kissed her then and he lingered, feeling her tears against his own flesh. He wasn't a man of many words, especially when it came to his emotions however, Claire was the only one who could elicit them.

Even if it were only for those mere seconds.

"You know I would do anything for you." He says soundly, still holding her against him. "You know I would get down on my hands and knees… all for you, dearheart."

"Show me then…" Claire says, her words spilling out of her lips.

She is quiet.

He is quiet.

"I love you." He says. His words are forbidden, only spoken one other time as hot blood gurgled from his mouth and trickled down his jaw, shaken breath hitched and ragged and _gasping_ for life, steely blue eyes straining to stay open and behold his last seconds. Only in death, did Claire Redfield hear those words once. And nothing was ever the same again.

She is quiet.

 **A/N: A little angst is always good for the soul. - Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons -**


	9. Landfill

**Disclaimer: I do not own RE.**

 **Trigger warning for self harm.**

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Chapter 9: Landfill

" _Cause this is torturous electricity between both of us and this is dangerous cause I want you so much but I hate your guts. I hate you."_

"God fucking damnit, Claire…" Wesker growled. He lifted her body out of the small puddles of blood and she muttered something incoherent. Wesker set her down on the couch and immediately proceeded to the bathroom to retrieve a first aid kit.

Claire's tears warmed her cheeks.

"You have to stop doing this." Wesker says as he sits down beside her, popping open the top of the kit. "What if I can't make it to you in time, hm?" He scolded her and Claire clenched her jaw. He began to dress the wounds on her wrists and it stung because of how deep they were this time. It stung because of how many times he'd done this before. It stung because she didn't _want_ him to make it on time. Once he was finished, he quickly inspected his work and then began to clean up the blood and glass on the kitchen floor.

"Albert…" Claire says softly, her throat was dry.

"What?" He responds from the kitchen. His tone is irritable, she can tell he's becoming sick of this routine.

"Leave… please." She asks.

Wesker was silent for a moment as he gathered the shards of glass from a broken bottle of cheap whiskey, its contents halfway drank and halfway dumped down the sink.

"Absolutely not." He says.

Claire curls up into the couch some more, hiding her shame under a blanket. "Just let me… just let me go."

Wesker finished cleaning the mess and returned to the living room, looming over Claire in the dark. "You're drunk."

"And you're not doing what I'm asking." Claire says, her words _bite._

"You want me to leave?" Wesker says sharply. "You want me to let you bleed out and die like a dog?"

"That's-"

"That's foolish." He says, cutting her off. "What if your brother found you like this, hm?"

Claire sat up. "Like you'd give a _shit_ about that. Like you give a shit about _any_ of this!"

"You're being childish." Wesker says. His words sting and they sound _unfair_ to her.

Claire clenched her jaw and her hands began to ball into fists. "Stop." She warns.

"You're just a stupid little girl, Claire." Wesker barks. His words are now fiery and they _burn._ "You're immature and selfish. Would you let Christoper get away with killing himself?" They both stood still and their eyes locked, Claire's are brimming with tears.

"Would you?" He asks again, his voice roars.

"No…" She croaks.

"You're a fighter, Claire." Wesker mutters in the dark. "So fight."

Claire is on him in a second but her arms are held at bay, fingers itching to claw out his eyes and she realizes, again, that it's futile. She slumps against him, sobs wracking her body. Her hands clench around his arms and she can't control her breathing. It's messy and ugly and _raw._ She cannot _stand_ him. She _hates_ him. She _needs_ him.

"How many times are we going to do this, dearheart?" He asks after she begins to settle down. She looks up at him, revealing wetted features that play against the shadows of the room and his shimmering, almost crystal-like eyes, burn right through her and straight to her core.

"Forever…" She said. A mere whisper against the darkness that seemed to follow wherever he went.

Wesker sighs lightly and runs a hand over her hair. "Alright."

XXXXX

The scars felt old. They were old.

His eyes did not change, they still burst in the darkness of his shadows and her scars did not go away. It had been forever and sometimes, she would press a knife to those scars and feel _nothing._ They were dull and ragged, the blade feeling nonexistent on her skin. She had other scars too but those were not nearly as significant as these. People could see them, they could cluster her into a stereotype, they could assume the kind of woman she was solely based on those scars.

But that was forever ago. There weren't any _people_ anymore. Not anyone sane, at least. There were survivors and infected, both grim reminders of what had taken place years ago. Claire watched everyone _die_. She had no control, she had no help, she didn't have the _guts._ And she hated herself for it. She hated every moment since the moment they met, since the moment her life would forever be clasped against his. She had all this time to change, to evolve just like him but her eyes still spoke of pure _humanism,_ something that, no matter how long it had been, Claire coddled and nourished. She could not _forget._

Even if those eyes changed.

They glowed and sparkled. Unlike those which burst and sharpened. They were a deep amber that swam with warm orange tones and almost gold-like flecks. Unlike those which were harsh and red, melting with deep, rich cinders. _Those_ eyes swallowed her whole, ate up the little distance between them, locked onto her like _prey._ Claire scoffed and rolled a knife between her hands, she overlooked abandoned roads and buildings, windows blown out, rubble crumbling into alleyways, small fires still burning over debris, black smoke rising towards the red sky. The top of the building she waited on sent small tremors through her feet as the winds swayed the structure, she could hear it ache and creak. She watched a small herd of infected bramble through the street below, they bumped into one another lifelessly, she could hear their teeth _snap_ in their skulls, she could smell their rotting flesh, she could hear their meaningless and garbled "speech", words of the undead weren't words at all. They were terrifying reminders of what everyone eventually became, regardless if you died by the bite or died by the blade or died by the bullet.

 _Everyone_ turns.

"Lovely weather." A voice says from behind her, startling her only enough to tighten her grip on the knife.

Claire relaxed a little.

Wesker took his place beside her, both standing on the edge of the building, peering down at their world.

"If you call this lovely…" She says. The atmosphere was always hot and humid, fresh air was heavy and sticky. Ash constantly rained down onto the streets, the smell of burning skin and organs was hard to escape.

"We should move." He says.

Claire bites her tongue. "Where to now?" She watches him peer down onto the street, unshaded eyes following the movements of something she cannot see. She could shove him off the top right now, watch him fall downwards and _die_ on the sidewalk. But he wouldn't die. His skull would leak, his limbs would twist but he would not _die._

It would only piss him off.

"I thought we'd visit somewhere." Wesker says lowly. "Somewhere we haven't been in a long time."

Claire is silent. There really is nowhere to go these days and she wonders what he has in mind. She's tired of cold, underground facilities. She's tired of the surface too, it's all dead. Everything is dead. She wishes she were too. She wishes the scars on her arms would suddenly open, spilling her blood until she was nothing.

"Okay." She says. "Where?"

His body stoops toward her like black serpent, almost as if he were ready to strike. Instead, he kisses her temple softly and his gruff, baritone voice is in her ear: "You'll see."

XXXXX

They are standing outside of her home and she is frozen in gut wrenching sorrow. She felt her stomach drop when they turned onto the street she still vividly recalls, it turns to stone when they get out of the car, it _burns_ when they stand in silence together. It is dilapidated and somewhat charred, the windows are foggy with grime, the garden has claimed it as its own, but it is still her home. It still holds memories.

"Why are we here?" Claire croaks, her voice is small and heavy.

Wesker is standing beside her and he places his hand on the small of her back, giving her a light usher forward. "You've changed a lot," he says as he inspects the door. "You've been unhappy."

He forces the door open with little effort and Claire hesitates to follow him in. Her gun is drawn, these days you never knew what's in the dark. She didn't need the gun, neither did he. They were both weapons. Her gun was at her side now as they stood together in the living room. The home looked as though it was frozen in time. Aside from a layer of dust, everything was where she had left it.

"Remember?" Wesker says suddenly, jolting Claire from her trance. His tone is unlike anything she's heard from him for quite some time. It is soft and it is low, his singular word rattling in her skull.

Claire nods because yes, she did remember. She remembers having sex on the couch sometimes, hasty and rough, in the middle of the night. She remembers having deep conversations afterwards, her head resting on his chest. She remembers making small meals with him over a cup of coffee, admiring the way his solid form leaned against her counter. She remembers fighting, screaming, _begging_ him to leave, to let her die in a gout of her own blood. She never asked for this life, she never asked to be apart of him like this but it was her life and she would live out of spite. Or maybe she was alive because she fought so hard to _stay_ that way.

She moves silently into the kitchen, a large, rusty red stain on the tiles makes her hold her breath, a lump forming in her throat. She had tried to take her own life so many times on this floor but it became her birthing place. She had turned into _him_ on this floor. She had _died_ in this very spot, revived into a beast she hardly recognized.

"I know you're still sentimental." He says. "It's something about you that will never change."

"What about you?" She says quietly.

"I hold sentiment for nothing." He responds. Claire's stomach knots. "Except for you, dearheart."

Claire stays silent, only she leans into his solid form and his arm pulls her in. Both gazing down to the dried stain of blood that was her end and beginning.

"I know it hurts to die." Wesker says softly. "I know…" he pauses and Claire watches him clench his jaw, his unshaded eyes wander over to her "I know it hurts to become."

"It hurts to live… in general." Claire says. "It hurts to be what we are."

"It doesn't have to."

Claire shakes her head. "You're right, it doesn't have to… but it does."

Wesker says nothing. He always says nothing. Claire is used to his silence in situations that concern the two of them. She has been with him for nearly ten years and as they walk through shadows together, she cannot help but be thankful for his arm around her. He is a constant and vigorous blight leading her through the darkness he projects but he is still _here_ and so is she. She is in her home with him again but there is no warmth, no light, no tomorrow, only them.

"It's only forever, dearheart."

 **A/N: - Landfill by Daughter -**


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